Up, black, striped and demasked li
At a funeral mass, the skunk’s tai
Paraded the skunk. Night after ni
I expected her like a visitor.
The refrigerator whinnied into sil

you won’t see them often
for wherever the crowd is
they
are not.
those odd ones, not

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars
of light,

I was a bum in San Francisco but
to go to a symphony concert along
and the music was good but somethi
audience was not
and something about the orchestra

Come with me
into the field of sunflowers.
Their faces are burnished disks,
their dry spines
creak like ship masts,

Either peace or happiness,
let it enfold you
when I was a young man
I felt these things were
dumb, unsophisticated.

The river
Of my childhood,
That tumbled
Down a passage of rocks
And cut-work ferns,

Why should I let the toad work
Squat on my life?
Can’t I use my wit as a pitchfork
And drive the brute off?
Six days of the week it soils

Antes que los remeros de Odiseo
fatigaran el mar color de vino
las inasibles formas adivino
de aquel dios cuyo nombre fue Prot
Pastor de los rebaños de los mares

Tightly-folded bud,
I have wished you something
None of the others would:
Not the usual stuff
About being beautiful,

To step over the low wall that div
Road from concrete walk above the
Brings sharply back something know
The miniature gaiety of seasides.
Everything crowds under the low ho

My fancies are fireflies, —
Specks of living light
twinkling in the dark.
he voice of wayside pansies,
that do not attract the careless g